


In With the Enemy

by twitch



Series: kylux cantina prompts [18]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Armitage Hux is a Kid, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Procedures, Pain, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 15:54:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11211318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twitch/pseuds/twitch
Summary: This was not how it was supposed to happen. They escaped the planet during the firefight, fleeing as fast as they could into their ships. The Commandment’s words were a mantra in his head, a litany of orders, demanding him to behave and hold himself properly. Stay calm. Show no fear. Tears are for the weak. Adhere to the rules. Be proud.He was a failure. The Commandment declared him one, repeatedly, but this confirmed it all.





	In With the Enemy

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr for kylux cantina for the Success and Failure theme. Prompt: "Their ship is falling apart around them, their enemies seconds away from finding them. All Hux can think about is how much he’s failed."

This was not how it was supposed to happen. They escaped the planet during the firefight, fleeing as fast as they could into their ships. The Commandment’s words were a mantra in his head, a litany of orders, demanding him to behave and hold himself properly. Stay calm. Show no fear. Tears are for the weak. Adhere to the rules. Be proud.

They drummed out like the daily marches of the 'Troopers. 

The screams and blaster fire were a terrifying melody.

He could still hear them, getting louder, drawing closer.

Red faced, blood dripping into his eye from being thrown into the ship, mixed with his tears.

He was a failure. The Commandment declared him one, repeatedly, but this confirmed it all.

Scrabbling to the floor, looking for a handhold while the ship rocked and shuddered, breaking apart, inside and outside, he was shoved aside, a boot colliding with his head as someone else ran down the corridor.

The escape pods! 

He heaved himself to his feet, rocking backwards against the wall when Resistance planes volleyed another series of blasts. Dizzy and nauseous, fear and the strike to his face making a deadly combination, he swayed before crashing to the ground, tripped over by one of the many Resistance foot soldiers who managed to make it onto the ship.

He didn’t sob, despite the sharp pain radiating through to his stomach. 

Eyes blurry he fought to pull himself up again, looking in the direction he needed to go but the soldier was chasing the remaining Imperials towards the escape pods.

His body was weak, the arms that wrapped around him much stronger, pulling him up and against a solid torso. Nausea and pain had him retching rather than fighting to free himself. 

It was the combined efforts that had him blacking out, slumping despite the yelling that continued over his head.

When he came back to he swore he was still rocking, despite the lack of blaring klaxons and shouting. It wasn’t until his eyes had adjusted to the bright light, a soft but harsh white rather than the flashing red, he realised he wasn’t on a ship.

He couldn’t move his head or eyes without further pain but he could see the familiar surroundings of med-droids and medical apparatuses. He was in a medbay room but the smell in the room wasn’t familiar. Not entirely sterile despite the surface cleanliness.

The door opened to his room. The medbay scrubs that the medic wore would’ve been ordinary if it wasn’t for the Resistance symbol on the chest.

He pushed himself up and back along the cot, ribs flaring with the movement. “Get away from me!”

The medic’s smile faltered, chagrined as he moved forward, but his face remained gentle. “Don’t move too much. We fixed your ribs but they’re still going to be sore.”

Unclenching his hands he cupped his side, waiting for the pain to abate. “Where am I? Where’s my…” He would’ve said dad but he’d long learned that as his non-son he had to refer to him by his title. “The Commandment?”

“Was he on the ship with you?” 

He nodded slowly, trying to control the pain rather than let it control him. 

“He must have made escaped in one of the escape pods.”

Away from his dad, even with his mantra repeating in his head, his eyes burned.

A knock sounded on the door despite it left a jar. Whoever stood in the hallway waited, not about to walk in uninvited. The medic gave him one last look, nonplussed, before sticking his head out of the room. 

He didn’t listen to their whispered words, attempting to curl into himself, pulling the sheets over his lap, only looking up when someone entered. Not the medic but a woman. She looked familiar despite the military garb. It took him several seconds, staring at her face, that he realised he was accustomed to seeing her in anti-propaganda media dressed in white robes.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” she commented, getting closer to his cot. Even though her voice was firm she didn’t sound like she was getting ready to bark out orders. There was an underlying kindness and need to help, yet the patronising tone the Commandment used when he mocked him for needing the help was absent. “I’d like to talk with you but I wanted to see if you’re feeling better first.”

Sensing a question in her words, he clenched his hands in the blankets. He didn’t want to give the wrong answer and find himself on the receiving end of her fury. He allowed a small shake of his head, not taking his eyes off her.

“We can wait. I want you to feel comfortable first.” Had she been closer he thought she would’ve put her hand on his shoulder but instead she smiled, making her look like the beautiful princess she was, despite the tired lines around her eyes. “You’re safe now, you can rest.”

She left the room, leaving him with the medic. Gentle fingers took his arm, instructing him to make a fist since he would give him something to help with the pain. 

He felt the tug of his skin when the needle went into his arm, the drag when it withdrew. He remained silent, knowing not to sound or show his pain.

He was helped to lie down and by the time he had his head back down on the pillow the hand came down to his face.

He flinched instinctively, remaining stiff and still even when fingers combed through his bright fringe.

Closing his eyes Armitage exhaled, wondering just how safe he was.


End file.
